<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>A Quiet Starlight by OGMadster</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28321509">A Quiet Starlight</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/OGMadster/pseuds/OGMadster'>OGMadster</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Final Fantasy XIV</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Starlight Celebration (Final Fantasy XIV), haurchestimeric</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 17:00:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,449</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28321509</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/OGMadster/pseuds/OGMadster</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Aymeric finds himself alone on Starlight with a blizzard raging outside. Well, almost alone. The Borel house seems so huge and empty on the longest night of the year...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aymeric de Borel/Estinien Wyrmblood, Aymeric de Borel/Haurchefant Greystone, Aymeric de Borel/Haurchefant Greystone/Estinien Wyrmblood, Haurchefant Greystone/Estinien Wyrmblood</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Quiet Starlight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The wind rose outside, howling in the flue. It drew Aymeric’s attention and for a moment out his window was pure white. Even when the gale slackened he could hardly see beyond the railings of the stairs leading to the estate opposite his the snow was so thick. But here and there, in fleeting glimpses, candles and aetherial lights of many colors winked out, the trappings of the holiday enduring the storm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Practically a blizzard,” said his steward quietly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aymeric turned, not quite starting, but he hadn’t heard him approach. “Indeed,” he said, worry drawing his gaze back to the window. “Alike even to the first Starlight,” he said softly, most to himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will you take something hot to drink, my Lord?” the steward asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A sigh built in Aymeric that he struggled to contain, preventing it at last by asking, “Tea, if you would.” The words came out more clipped than he intended.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, m’Lord,” he said with a slight bow, moving away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tried to be grateful that he had brought his work home with him as early as he did, with the storm as bad as it was. That he had more time than usual to complete it, what with the holiday, that the smell of pine and spices permeated the house. But sitting there watching the snow fall, and those lights shimmering bravely out of the night, he was gripped only with a powerful loneliness, a vise over his chest, a knot cinched, burning, in his throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wished, impossibly, that Estinien was there. That Haurchefant was, that the Warrior of Light was. But Estinien, his dear Estinien, had ever been poor at communicating, and even if he’d been improving at it, his travels were taking him further and further afield, well out of the range of a Linkpearl. Well out of Aymeric’s reach. And the Warrior of Light, Fury be kind, who knew where they were now? The last he’d heard they’d departed Eorzea for the East. Only Haurchefant was yet in Coerthas. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I shall of course endeavor to see you for Starlight, Lord Commander!” he’d said, beaming at him as he always did, his enthusiasm and sincerity ever a balm on Aymeric’s weary heart. But he ought to be with his own family, with who he chose, for Starlight, and even so, a storm this fierce… Aymeric sighed at last, unable to resist the pull of its undertow any longer. He could not wish for anyone to be outside in </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He closed his eyes. Before him floated visions of Estinien amidst the squall, forging through drifts, the wind screaming past him, or him holed up, tending to his gear and waiting for the blizzard and the longest night of the year to pass, somewhere in the wilderness. That knot in his throat squeezed tighter yet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Halone, see him to shelter and safety,” he prayed, it slipping out of him unbidden. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nearby, the sound of a purr and a meow mingled seized his attention. His Steward’s cat wound round his ankles, looking up at him out of his squashed white face. As he came back to the present, he found tears on his cheeks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here now,” he said to Mogget, lifting him into his lap and brushing his tears away. “Come to distract me?” Mogget meowed up at him rather noisily as though replying and promptly began to drool as Aymeric petted him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> his strongest skill,” the Steward said, reappearing with his tea. It smelled of cinnamon and spices - Estinien’s favorite - and a smile fractured Aymeric’s face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” he managed all the same, and drank.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My Lord,” the steward paused, as though considering, and said then, “Aymeric. Will you not set aside your work? Is there nothing you wish to do merrier than this?” He spoke gently, smiling down at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“René,” he began, struck anew by the kindness of this man who had always been there, who had watched him grow up. Every line in his face was familiar, and Aymeric knew René cared for him, so much that he would not suffer another to take his place as head of the Borel household staff. Not yet. His eyes prickled. Even if the house was huge and terribly empty, empty in a way that Aymeric had not felt press close in years, he was not alone. “Perhaps I shall,” he said, deciding, and rose to his feet with Mogget cradled in one arm. Concern Aymeric had not fully realized was there cleared from René’s expression and gave way to a smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wonderful,” he said, putting a hand on Aymeric’s arm affectionately. “Besides, you work much too hard.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aymeric chuckled, recalling, “As young master Alphinaud once said, there is no rest for the righteous.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>René laughed. “And indeed you are that, Aymeric.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They parted, René saying something about checking on dinner, and Aymeric brought Mogget with him into the parlor. The voluminous white cat, for his part, was strangely willing to be carried. Whether it was because he could tell Aymeric craved the company or it was for some other reason he didn’t know. Pausing, his eyes were drawn to the piano. It had been so long since he’d played.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Depositing Mogget in one of the armchairs and retrieving a square of felt to put under his teacup, Aymeric lifted the cover, exposing the keys, gleaming pristine black and white. His fingers wandered over a chord, letting it bloom note by note. Well, if he was going to play, he was going to do it right. He lifted the lid, propping it open to expose the strings, and went to the nearby shelf for his folio of Starlight music.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took him a moment to select a song, to leaf through and find its pages, to settle, and once it was done he sat, hands on the keys, poised and waiting. And then, slowly, tentatively, he began. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The notes filled the parlor, filled him, and though the vise over his chest crushed harder, the ache of it keener, there was, too, something soothing in it. He moved with the music, pouring it into all the wells and hollows of his being, into the emptiness of the house. He played, and wept, and was at ease.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Footsteps, quiet in the way of one who wants not to interrupt, approached the open parlor door and waited. Aymeric played on, hoping René was enjoying the song; after all, he was the only other person who could fully appreciate how long it had been. He wondered if his Steward had missed it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the final notes faded he sighed, but in a satisfied way. His hands remembered much, and his eyes, too. He was grateful. Sweeping the sheets for the song back together he reached again for the folio.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aymeric,” said a voice. Rough, low. His.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aymeric whirled around on the bench and there he stood, Estinien, nose and ears red from the cold, in a thick grey coat and holding a bottle with a ribbon around its neck in one hand. A moment later, there at his elbow was Haurchefant, bundled up in a bright red coat and a white scarf, smiling at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Estinien!” he was off the piano bench so fast he nearly upset it, not caring in the slightest. A few strides and he was in his arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, love,” he said softly into his ear, planting a kiss on his cheekbone. He held Aymeric close, solid, real.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And Haurchefant,” he said, a touch belatedly, a laugh playing over his name, pulling away only so that he might embrace him, next. Haurchefant grinned as he took him into his arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t expect, I hadn’t thought…” Aymeric’s words got lost on the way to his mouth as he looked from one to the other of them, one hand yet on Haure’s arm and the other going to Estinien’s cheek. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why, my dear Aymeric, are you crying?” Haurchefant asked, a hand going to his face to wipe away a tear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Forgive me,” Aymeric said, smiling now so fully it hurt the muscles of his cheeks. He relished it - it was so much better than the ache of mere moments before. “I had been wishing for the both of you, and here you are,” he told them. He felt ready to burst with gratitude, with love. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Estinien’s eyes softened at that, turning his face in toward his palm to plant a kiss there, too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh Aymeric,” Haurchefant said, stepping in to embrace him again. Estinien stepped closer too, surprising Aymeric, to hold them both. He leaned in, and the three of their foreheads touched.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Happy Starlight, Aymeric,” Estinien said, and smiled.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed~</p><p>Special thanks to Cherry and Yuna for giving me Aymeric Starlight yearning brainworms</p><p>*The name Mogget for the cat is a reference :3c<br/>*I gave the Steward the name René bc I like it /shrug</p><p>This is my first time ever posting a fanfic ;;;;<br/>But I'll try to post more! My usual OT4 from this fandom is WoLhaurchestimeric, maybe with more partners to come? I have a weakness for loving polycules</p><p>If you want more brainworms pls feel free to come wallow in them with me on twt @ScruffyChocoboi</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>